


Their Fluttering Wings

by cornelia_h



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Coming of Age, Creampie, Cunnilingus, F/M, FTM Dick Grayson, First Kiss, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Praise Kink, Pseudo-Incest, Robin to Nightwing, Trans Dick Grayson, Trans Male Character, Underage Drinking, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:14:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25407466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cornelia_h/pseuds/cornelia_h
Summary: Soon after Bruce adopted Rachel Grayson upon the tragic death of her parents, he realized that she wasn't like most girls.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 4
Kudos: 100





	Their Fluttering Wings

**Author's Note:**

> I am thinking in particular of Nightwing by [Travis Moore](https://i.redd.it/ryhgg37rrjz41.jpg) and [Yasmine Putri](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/04/97/6b/04976bc6029759f1362b30242bee4af7.jpg) here.
> 
> Please read the tags carefully and enjoy!

Soon after Bruce adopted Rachel Grayson upon the tragic death of her parents, he realized that she wasn't like most girls.

She insisted on cutting her own hair, never allowing it to grow beyond ear-length. She never liked the myriads of dresses that Bruce had initially bought her, always opting for pants, tights, and shorts, of course for her Robin uniform as well. She only mentioned her guy friends from school, how she taught some infamous bully a lesson in front of her buddies and they couldn't believe how a lower grade girl so small could submit an upper grade jock so easily.

“It’s a simple arm bar,” she said proudly to Bruce at dinner, “the one you taught me last week.”

She was so smart and she learned everything so quickly. She soon became an indispensable part of Bruce’s mission, assisting him and fighting alongside him without fear. She giggled like ringing bells when she ran across the empty hall and swung on the chandelier. She gave Bruce the warmest hugs and sweetest kisses on the cheek, whenever he returned from work or from patrol on his own, however bruised and battered.

Rachel, his little girl, the light to his darkness, the joy of his life. Bruce would do anything for her, anything to protect her, anything to keep that smile on her dimpled face.

But her smile disappeared gradually. Alfred said it was just adolescence, and that Bruce was much more difficult than Rachel in his early teens. But Bruce knew his girl, knew that there must be something that had been bothering her, even close to torturing her. He couldn't bring himself to ask, didn't know how to ask, so he waited. He waited and hoped that one day, perhaps, Rachel would be ready to open up to him.

Eventually, she did. They were watching a movie together in the home theater: _The Danish Girl_ , on which Rachel had to write an essay for her class. Hugging his arm, she curled up against him on the couch, leaving his hand on her knees. Bruce absentmindedly ran his thumb over the soft skin when she suddenly said, “B, I don’t think I want to be a girl anymore.”

Bruce had always been pretty open-minded about the spectrum of sexualities and gender identities, having slept with both men and women alike. Even if he weren’t, he would still love his girl—or, perhaps his boy—as unconditionally as one human being could ever be capable of loving another. So Bruce found her—him—the best doctors in Gotham. They helped him start hormone therapy at sixteen before he decided to proceed with surgery soon after his eighteenth birthday, during the winter break of his freshman year.

He had now become Richard, or Dick, as he asked Bruce to call him with a mischievous smirk on his beautifully androgynous face, almost reveling in its innuendo. He kept his hair even shorter than before, for what had counted as short hair for Rachel now still looked too long for Dick. Other changes also happened along the way, as Dick decided he didn't want to be Robin anymore, either.

“It’s not that I want to leave you, B,” Dick said with head tilted, resting his chin in his palm. “I just think that…now that I’m an adult, and with everything that has happened, maybe it’s time for me to really become someone new.”

So Dick became Nightwing instead, the invincible blue bird of the night. He redesigned his uniform, asking Bruce for the tightest material to still be flexible and safe, contouring his lean, muscular body and cupping his taut ass, so blatantly and unapologetically flaunting his delicate but unmistakingly masculine beauty. He looked instantaneously more confident and more at ease, practically radiating strength and energy as he continued to bring down the criminals of Gotham and beyond.

For the first time in a while, Bruce felt relieved that Dick had finally found himself, that his boy could finally be as happy and fulfilled as he rightfully deserved.

Bruce didn't expect, however, to come home late one night and find Dick, who had just returned to the manor for the summer break, lying on the couch in the dark living room, smelling strongly of alcohol. Dick was still in his Nightwing uniform, his mask lying on the floor and his right arm and leg both dangling off the leather couch as if half of his body was about to slide down at any given moment. A bottle of Bruce’s scotch rested on the coffee table, already half empty, with no tumbler or ice bucket in sight.

“Dick,” called Bruce, kneeling down to nudge Dick’s body back into the couch and patting lightly on his face, “Dick, are you okay? You’re not supposed to drink this.”

“B? I’m sorry. You’re back…” Dick was slurring—and crying, Bruce realized, as he leaned closer to him, seeing that the wetness on Dick’s face wasn’t sweat, but tears. “I must be a freak, B…I’m sorry…”

Bruce put his hands under Dick’s arms to help him sit up and lean against Bruce as he sat down with him. In this way, he could at least half face the young man to read his expression. “You’re not a freak,” said Bruce softly, wrapping one arm around Dick’s shoulders and reaching out with his other hand to hold Dick’s, his thumb stroking the back of his hand soothingly. “You’re my boy. You’re Nightwing. You’re smart, brave, and kind, and you’ve done so much to help other people.”

Dick’s body was limp as his head lolled against Bruce’s neck, his breath uneven and feverish. He sobbed audibly after a long silence, palm covering his face when he buried himself deeper into the crook of Bruce’s neck, as if trying to disappear into thin air out of shame. “I wanted to be a man,” he muttered, voice muffled, “I wanted it so much, and it feels so good now that I finally am. But I can’t feel attracted to women like a real man.”

“You don't have to be attracted to women to be a real man, Dick.” Bruce held him closer and squeezed his shoulder, feeling Dick shuddering as he left comforting kisses on his temple and along the hairline. “I’ve only wanted men,” Dick mumbled, snaking his arms around Bruce, “God, I’ve only wanted you, B. I want you so much it hurts. What’s wrong with me? You must be so disappointed in me. You must be so disgusted. Oh god…” His voice was broken as he trailed off, and for that moment Bruce felt something fiery like rage spiraling in him. How could anyone be disappointed or disgusted by Dick, how could his precious boy have ever come to feel this way, and how could Bruce prove that he adored and cherished him more than anything in this world?

“I’m so proud of you,” said Bruce, almost out of nowhere, his mouth dry as if he was the one to have drunk more than he should. Dick looked up at him, eyes still glistening with tears. Bruce looked straight back into those eyes as he cupped Dick’s face with both hands, holding Dick like the treasure that he was, feeling his jawlines against his palms, a perfect balance of strong and smooth. “You’re so beautiful, Dick, you have no idea,” he murmured, suddenly realizing how different his tone had sounded, how much hoarser and darker his voice had turned.

Dick must have detected the slight shift in the air, too, for he had always been perceptive beyond his age. He quickly licked his lower lip before biting it, leaving it wet and shiny even under the faint moonlight. His features looked softly chiseled, a strange oxymoron so fitting for the paradoxical beauty in front of Bruce.

When Bruce finally put his lips on Dick’s, slowly and gently, he was immediately overwhelmed with an aching longing that had probably been repressed too long for him to even have acknowledged its existence. His blood stirred and his heart began pounding so fast that it was almost deafening. Dick let out a tiny whimper before he parted his lips under Bruce, warm and soft and willing, sucking him in as Bruce pushed his tongue into his mouth. For a very long time, Bruce explored every corner of his mouth, teasing and caressing and invading, locking his tongue with Dick’s. The wet smacking sounds turned him on irresistibly, and when Dick finally pulled back, gasping for air and flushed from his hairline to the neck, the silver line of saliva stretching between their lips annihilated any possible self-restraints or defenses that might still have been left in Bruce.

“Love me, B. Please, love me…” Dick pleaded, eyes hazy with desire, looking so vulnerably innocent and positively sexual at the same time.

“I will,” whispered Bruce. “Hold on to my neck.” Dick followed obediently as Bruce slid one arm behind his back and the other under his knees, sweeping him up into a bridal carry before walking upstairs to the master’s suite. Bruce nudged the heavy door open with his hips before kicking it close as quietly as he could. He carefully lowered Dick onto the plush mattress, putting a pillow under his head.

“B—” Dick pouted in protest of the sudden lack of contact between them, only to be picked up by Bruce soon after and placed onto his lap as Bruce settled against the headboard.

“My beautiful, brave, strong boy,” Bruce relished and paused after every word as he spoke, zipping open Dick’s uniform from the back. It was so tight that he had to roll down the durable thin layer to expose the smooth skin, inch by inch. The fabric stretched and popped as Bruce finally separated the gloves from Dick’s fingertips, leaving his upper body bare. Not wavering his gaze for one bit, Bruce continued peeling off the suit, worshipful with his hands. He almost chuckled with pride when he saw that Dick was wearing a cup inside even though he didn't need one—so cautious of protecting his unique identity.

When his suit finally came off entirely, Dick scrambled to remove his underwear as well and dropped all his clothes to let them pool on the floor. Bruce’s breath hitched. He had never looked this closely and intensely at Dick’s body, so completely and invitingly naked. He had seen those faint surgery scars on his chest, where strong pectoral muscles had replaced plump breasts, when they brushed shoulders in the Cave’s shower. But the full sight in front of him was almost too much for the throbbing erection still painfully trapped in his pants.

Dick inched closer and leaned over him, tugging lightly at the hem of Bruce’s t-shirt before lifting it up. His eyes were full of wonder and tenderness as his hands roamed across Bruce’s well-defined chest and abdomen, hardened and scarred by years of rigorous training and fighting. Bruce sucked in a quick breath when Dick ducked his head to print a kiss between his clavicles. He then left another kiss on Bruce’s lips, but the cotton-silk fabric blocked their touch and mediated the sensation as he pulled Bruce’s t-shirt over his head, before finally taking it off.

Bruce groaned at the unbearable tease, impatiently unbuckling his belt and shrugging off his pants and boxers altogether. He threw his clothes off the bed, not caring where they would land, all while keeping his mouth on Dick’s, bumping into him as he moved but readjusting the angle of his head to recapture those deliciously swollen lips, again and again. He held the back of Dick’s head with a large palm, easing him back onto the pillow as their heated bodies pressed firmly together. They stared into each other’s eyes wordlessly until Bruce ran a thumb across Dick’s cheek and said: “Let me show you tonight how much I love you.”

Without further explanations, Bruce stacked two pillows under Dick’s waist and directed all his attention to the most private part. Dick was cleanly shaved, his skin down there almost smooth as a baby’s. His clit was a pearly pink, bigger than a woman’s, already swollen and twitching shyly under Bruce’s gaze. Bruce lowered his head and huffed a warm breath of air, smiling as Dick jolted reflexively. He leaned close to give the clit a tentative lick, his mouth immediately watering after the first taste. It had been a long time since he did this to anybody.

Dick moaned, so unreservedly and sensually in his bright tenor. Bruce became bolder in his motion at the encouragement, making repeated long licks from the slick entrance, along the folds, before reaching the clit again with a flick of his tongue. Dick keened and whined as he arched his spine and bucked his hips against Bruce’s face, seemingly overwhelmed and almost frightened by the sheer intensity of pleasure. Bruce pinned him down with both hands on his hips, kneading the firm flesh while teasing out and lapping up the juices that gushed uncontrollably from his vagina, wonderfully sticky and savory on the tip of his tongue.

Bruce was excruciatingly hard at the moment. He desperately wanted to put his cock inside the hole, to finally feel its warm tightness and hot slickness, but he reined in his urge and reminded himself that tonight was for Dick, that he would show him love before taking care of any of his own needs.

“Bruce…B, I can’t, I…” Dick was scratching at the sheets helplessly as Bruce thrust his tongue deeper and more firmly inside, never forgetting to keep up the pace to stimulate the clit. He gradually sped up, alternating between fucking Dick with his tongue and licking him until he gasped and begged him simultaneously for more and to stop. He didn't remember when Dick had put his hands in his hair, but when Dick clenched his fingers so hard that Bruce’s scalp tingled, he knew Dick was getting close.

Bruce buried himself so deep between Dick’s butt cheeks that, when Dick finally climaxed in a long and frenzied chain of spasms and surged up and down so frantically with his strong muscular core, Dick’s slick smeared all over his face. Bruce wiped at the mess with the heel of his palm and licked it all clean as Dick observed him with a dazed and mesmerized look, too weak and boneless to speak or move. Bruce planted both arms on each side of Dick’s head and leaned down for a kiss, making sure Dick get a taste of himself as their tongues mingled.

“My boy…” he murmured in between breaths, “My perfect boy…”

“Yours…” Dick sighed into his mouth, parting his legs further and lifting his hips slightly to rub his remaining wetness onto Bruce’s burning cock. “Come inside, B…I need to feel you inside me, need you to fill me up…”

It was all the invitation Bruce needed before he lined up his cock at the entrance and pushed, so very easily, into Dick’s warm tunnel in one long, desperate thrust, until his balls slapped against his ass. He stayed still for a moment, his brain overloaded with sensation and his cock almost over-stimulated with the incredible heat and slickness. The bumpy surface inside Dick’s vagina held him in place so tightly as if never wanting him to leave. Dick let out an elongated moan, hugging Bruce close around the neck and wrapping his strong legs around Bruce’s waist. Bruce rolled his hips once, drawing out another delicious moan from Dick, before moving in a steadier pace, pulling out slowly and completely every single time to witness the length Dick had so nicely swallowed with his hole before shoving it back in to drill him open again.

Dick was so perfect for him, so trusting and loving despite it was Bruce of all people who had raised him, and so warm and tight around Bruce’s cock as he writhed in pleasure under his body. He was beautiful, so much more beautiful than any man or woman Bruce had ever been with or laid eyes on. Almost involuntarily, Bruce picked up the speed, balls slapping against Dick’s perky butt cheeks with every quick thrust, feeling heat beginning to build up, about to boil over.

Ramming himself into the wet heat so fast it was both mechanical and animalistic, Bruce finally surrendered and came inside Dick, filling him up with possibly the largest load in his life as come soon began spilling out of Dick’s clenched vagina. “I love you, Bruce! I love you…” Dick cried in ecstasy, his eyes full of tears as he shuddered and reached his second orgasm, still rubbing his clit against Bruce’s spent cock. Bruce didn't pull out immediately, resting his head on Dick’s chest and listening to his lover’s heartbeat as Dick gently smoothed and kissed his hair. They enjoyed the quiet intimacy for some moments, waiting for their breaths to slow down and steady, until Bruce finally withdrew himself, leaving a pool of his seeds flowing out from between the dark, swollen folds.

Bruce laid back down in bed, extending an arm for Dick to curl up in his embrace. “Are you…on any pills?” he asked, suddenly remembering that even after the surgery, even with the testosterone that Dick had been taking regularly, Dick might still get pregnant.

“No,” said Dick almost coyly, “I never thought it would be necessary.”

Panic and guilt gripped Bruce at once. He loved Dick more than anyone in this world, and it would be the greatest irony if he turned out to be the one to exploit and hurt him. “Should we—” he hurried to say, before Dick stopped him with fingers on his lips and left a peck at the corner: “Shh…do you love me, B?”

“You know I do,” answered Bruce simply and surely.

“Then I don’t care if I get pregnant or not, as long as we’re together.”

“I’ll take care of you,” Bruce promised.

“You always have.” Dick kissed him again, this time on the lips. He nuzzled Bruce’s neck and closed his eyes. His fluttering eyelashes tickled Bruce’s skin like delicate wings. Bruce held him closer to his heart, gently kissing those lashes, still a bit wet with tears from their shared passion. His little bird, with a beauty out of this world.


End file.
